A Beautiful, Dangerous Love
by Victoria Chrystallis
Summary: Fumito thought of something to bond himself with his beautiful Saya. It was a brilliant scientific achievement.
1. O N E

A Beautiful, Dangerous Love

Chapter One

"Saya," he said quietly, like he always did. His tone was always calm, controlled, like his actions and words. The woman he was addressing did not respond to him immediately, like she always did. She didn't even lift her head to look at him. How rude, he thought as he gazed at his beautiful specimen. She was pale and looked tired. "I thought of something wonderful this morning, while I was heading to you, my dear."

Saya looked up at him indignantly, her mouth a hard line. "Tch. Your wonderful ideas are very frightening." Her eyes were wonderful, however, he wished that they were red. Her red eyes were the best sights in the whole world.

He smiled and leaned on the table, arms crossed across his chest. "Don't be like that, Saya. Everything I'm doing is for your own good, my dear." For a moment, their eyes met –brown against pitch black. Saya's eyes were narrowed.

"You're insane," she spat then tried to free herself from the restraints again.

He smiled. He enjoyed watching his beautiful Saya struggling.

"Only for you," he whispered, reaching out a hand to touch her delicate alabaster skin. Saya's hands may have been cuffed, but she still managed to slap his hand away from her. "Don't you dare touch me," she hissed.

Fumito sighed and strode past her. "Then… you don't want to hear my wonderful plan, Saya?"

"I would rather die."

"Pity," he said quietly before leaving her chamber. Once the doors closed behind him, Fumito shook his head and murmured. "I would have enjoyed watching you opposing my plan." With a deep breath, the he walked away. Saya was a marvel to see, especially when she was angry. She was like a fascinating lion in the circus—beautiful, mesmerizing and very lethal, yet tame thanks to the Ring Master's whip. Of course, the Ring Master was none other than him, and his whip was the heavy metal chains and restraints, the many tubes stealing away her precious blood. However, no matter how controlled she was, her ferocity still lived deep inside her, like an inextinguishable flame. That flame was what Fumito feared of the most. If that flame suddenly burst out of her and consumed her, he would be sent in hell in less than a second.

Fumito opened a door and walked in on his people, clad in white laboratory coats and protective gloves and masks, working intently. They were all scribbling down their observations—nobody was speaking. All of the scientists were focused on only one thing. Their attention was completely fixated on a tube in the middle of the vast room, containing Saya's blood. One of them turned to face Fumito and bowed. "Sir," the man said. Fumito nodded and was handed a report. He read it, eager to know what the outcome of his bright idea was. A moment later, the blonde handed the report back. "Very good," he said.

His plan was a success. It had worked.

His Saya would soon be free from all the suffering and pain that she's going through. It sort of scared him. It made him happy too.

"It's amazing how science can form life without natural conception," Fumito commented, his voice cheerful and calm as usual. The Chief Researcher nodded and told him, "If our calculations are correct, the blood will turn into a normal human fetus in three days." Fumito cringed at the term his employee used.

_Normal._

Nothing was normal about Saya. She was goddam special. Fumito narrowed his eyes and said, in a tone more menacing and cold, "This experiment you're conducting here is nowhere near normal, Dr. Naoki. This creature you're bringing to life is a special creature. Please choose your words more wisely."

"I'm sorry, Sir."

Fumito raised a hand and walked towards the tube. From the distance, it didn't look like anything was happening to it, but now that he looked at it closely; he saw the discoloration of the blood, of its continuous movement. It was a fascinating sight, just like its source. He wondered, would his DNA and her DNA mix well, and create a perfect being? What if their DNAs created a useless creature? He shook his head. He was already a monster as is. Humans are monsters deep inside.

A low, quiet chuckle emanated from his lips.

Fumito hoped that it would look beautiful and be lethal. Powerful. Better than Tadayoshi. He placed his hand on the glass case and whispered. "Form well, child." He lingered a moment longer then turned his back on his progressing masterpiece.

Saya was still in her almost-catatonic state when he returned. She was still gazing out into oblivion, at the thousand vials of her blood floating in front of her. "So powerful, yet so weak, my love." Fumito whispered, standing behind her. She did not move, did not care to acknowledge him with an answer. "You must be tired, Saya. Don't worry, in a few more weeks, I can set you free…"

"Free?" the word escaped Saya's lips quietly, laced with doubt and disbelief. Her voice was raspy, dull, as if the fight in her had retired for the night. "You're lying again."

Fumito pursed his lips and stood in front of her. "I cannot lie to you, Saya. You're the most important person to me in this world." He could lie to anybody, anytime, anywhere. It was his nature.

Saya stared at her lap and didn't utter a word.

"There's no truth in that," she whispered as he walked towards the door. Fumito looked at her back and smiled. Maybe. He didn't really know himself.

Author's Note:

Hello. Thank you for reading. So I fell in love with Blood C, and most especially Fumito. I have that disorder, haha. Villains just _rule_. I think this fic is a little bit twisted in so many ways. I hope I did Fumito and Saya justice. Please review and if you liked it enough, stay tuned for the second chapter!

Victoria Chrystallis


	2. T W O

Chapter Two

* * *

Fumito sat behind a mahogany desk, where thick folders were piled high on the side. He was reviewing each folder carefully, meticulously. The sunlight streamed into his office in a thick slant that cut through the darkness. Saya needs to feed. His stage wasn't ready yet. The buildings needed furnishing, its characters' were still being trained to act like they were a normal community and the Child was still developing, taking its time.

Saya might have to wait for a little longer, he thought with disdain.

With a tired sigh, Fumito placed the file he was reviewing on the tabletop and massaged his temple. He wondered if his Saya would like the game he's preparing for her, if she would be happy. He wanted nothing but her happiness. _Saya's happiness_… he would do anything for it. Spend all of his money for it. _Kill _for it. Everything would be rewarded when she finally smiles. Just thinking about her smiling made him smile.

Somebody knocked on the door. "Fumito-sama?"

"Come in," he said in clipped tone. What now?

It was Naoki's intern, who walked in Fumito's office with shaking knees and a clipboard. "Finally, something I actually want to read." Fumito said lazily reaching for the clipboard. Something caught his eye. "Wait… is that a pimple in your cheek?" The intern's eyes grew wide and nodded. "Yes sir."

"Go find another internship for now, young man. What Dr. Naoki is conducting is a very delicate experiment. I would hate it if your acne were to contaminate it." Fumito said, still scanning the report.

"But sir… I wear a mask and gloves when I am in the—" the intern tried to say.

Fumito shook his head. "Do you know what I dislike the most? People that talk back, kid. Go get your things and go home." _Be thankful that your grades are stellar, or else you'd be swimming with the fishes tonight_. The report was fairly thick, and in its pages were interesting developments. The Child was developing at a highly accelerated pace. Magnificent. His eyes wandered to the stack of files he had to sign and read and decided that he can get back to them later.

Saya was in her usual position when he entered her chamber, unmoving, unaware. Well, she was purposely being unaware of his existence, anyway. "Saya," he said quietly, standing at her left side, studying her marvelous face. Her eyes were blankly staring at her lap and her lips were slightly parted. "What are you thinking of right now?" She didn't stir.

"I know you're starving, my dear Saya." Fumito said, leaning in front of her. She looked up at him this time, with glossy eyes and chapping lips. She was beginning to deteriorate. "Don't worry. You can feed soon, love. Just be patient." Saya looked so fragile, so enticing. What he'd give to touch her. Fumito reached for her and she narrowed her eyes in warning. "I won't hurt you, Saya… I promise. I just…" his words faded at the sight of Saya struggling out of the chain restraints.

He smiled and sat at the opposite end of the ridiculously long dining table. From this distance, she looked like a princess, sitting up regally and quietly, like she had been taught to. "Why… why are you doing this?" she asked with a hoarse voice. She must be very thirsty now. The restraints clinked together as she tried to free herself from them again. What an unruly princess. He rested his head onto his palm and said, "There are powers in this world that are so great that man fears them," Fumito stood up and walked back towards her. "That's why people want to get a hold of that power. Oh, Saya, do you really not want to hear what I have done for you?"

Silence was the only answer he got from his prisoner. Fumito nodded, accepting rejection for the hundredth time and stood up. "Just wait, Saya." he whispered to her as he passed her chair. Saya looked up at him for a second then returned to staring at her lap.

Fumito rested his head on the headrest once the driver closed the SUV door. It's been ten years since he'd come back to Japan. Nobody really knew about his past and he didn't really care to share it. In the world of politics and business, all they needed to know was your college degree, your annual income and shallow family background. His mother was not Japanese. Fumito never got the chance to know his Mother. The only thing that his Father would say was that she left when he was only a year old. He'd grown up as the wealthy little boy with no real friends. It was a typical set-up. There had been many marriage meetings, but he'd rejected every single girl. He was in love with a mythical girl and so, he did everything in his power to get her. There wasn't anything that he couldn't get when he wanted it— even if it meant killing his Father, who had disagreed with his plans too many times. There was no remorse—there never was any.

"Where to, Chairman?" the chauffeur asked.

"The firing range, I need to blow off some steam." Fumito said, opening his eyes.

Saya stared at the floating vials of her blood. _Promise me, you'll never take another human's life, Saya… _a dismembered voice whispered in the back of her mind. She took a deep breathe to calm herself down. If it weren't for that stupid promise, she would have already torn that bastard into pieces. She couldn't remember the face of the one she made the promise to. The door creaked open.

"Why are you here again?" she hissed.

Fumito was not in the room with her, she was with strangers wearing white head-to-toe protective gear. They were holding syringes. One of the people motioned for somebody to hold her down. Three men in grey protective gear came forward and held down her right arm and the one wearing white injected the syringe's contents into her. Saya screamed. She could feel it racing into her system. It was hot, _very hot_. The gray people let go of her right arm and held down her left arm. The process was repeated and the pain was unbearable.

"Fumito!" she snarled. Her voice shook all the floating vials.

"_The vials!_" somebody shouted.

He put the gun down and took off his headphones then took the phone his PA was holding out for him.

"What is it?" he asked. Fumito's eyes widened a moment later before he swore. "Goddam it! You imbeciles!" He gritted his teeth and sighed. "I'll be there in a few minutes then. If she still hasn't calmed down when I get there, you're fired."

Fumito shook his head. If anything were to happen to his dear Saya, lives would not be enough for compensation. Her life was worth more than a hundred thousand peoples' lives. She was goddam immortal, and if she was going to get sick or die just because of some scientists' malpractice, that was just going to be too damn sad. He clicked his tongue. No, that can't happen. Saya is his everything. _Literally._ He had invested billions for her welfare. She was extremely rare. No one else can come close to her _beauty_, to her _power_.

Saya was still shaking when he arrived. Beside her were a dozen broken vials of her blood. It was messy,messy, _messy_. She looked like she had been scared out of her wits. "Saya?" he whispered, studying her clammy face. "Oh darling you're shaking like a leaf…"

"Was… was this what you've been ta-talking about?" she sputtered out, throwing him an accusatory glare. Her lips were pale, and a part of it was bleeding.

"Yes, and no." Fumito answered, thankful for the thicker arm restraints as he wiped the blood off from her lower lip. "This is only one of the things I've done for you, dear Saya." He crossed his arms and scrutinized her again. "You'll get used to the serum in time, Saya. For now, you have no choice but to endure it." Her eyes glowed, but only for a few seconds. "How does it feel?"

No answer.

"Saya?"

Silence. Fumito let a small smile creep into his mouth. She'd fallen asleep. He stayed where he was. It was a rare occasion to see his prized Saya be in peace. Yes, beings from myths were truly beautiful.

* * *

Author's Note:

Haaaaa! Finally, an update! Ü  
Um…well, yeah… I know my fic's über weird. Thank you for reading! I hope you're still weirded out enough to leave me a complaint—yeah, right—haha. Don't forget the review or Fumito will get sad! We don't want a sad sadist heree~!

Victoria Chrystallis


	3. T H R E E

Chapter Three

Fumito walked rigidly in the dim hallway, surrounded by armed guards and Dr. Naoki. This was the day when the Child was finally going to be taken out of the containment chamber. He was so excited, but his flawless calm mask hid it all from the surface. Nobody really needed to know. He was sure that the others were nervous… frightened. There was no other sound aside from the clinks of the guards' armor and guns and the staccato of their shoes.

Dr. Naoki's staff were rigid and bustling about when Fumito entered the room, all of them were wearing horribly masked panic and excitement. They all stopped what they were doing when they finally noticed his presence. He was sure that they were wondering what the armed guards were for, and that they were starting to fear for their lives. "Good evening everybody." Fumito said with a smile. "Is everything ready?"

Firm answers of yes resonated through the laboratory and Fumito nodded. "That's wonderful. Naoki-sama, shall we begin?" The doctor nodded and stalked off to speak with one of his staff members. After a minute or so, Naoki came back to Fumito's side and said, "Ryosuke reckons that the infant will be harmless while the procedure goes on, but the danger begins when it wakes up and feels hunger."

"I see." Fumito said. "Start."

Naoki inclined his head and moved away from Fumito, where the staff gathered around him for instructions. Fumito folded his arms across his chest, trying to be patient. Whatever the instructions Naoki was giving, it was taking too damn long. Saya was to be drugged for the last time tonight as well.

Everything was happening according to his plan—his well calculated plan. The lab rats dispersed at last, and they all headed to their assigned stations and Dr. Naoki prepared himself to enter the chamber of reinforced glass. Fumito watched the old man fidget with the gas mask then his gloves. If Naoki died tonight, Fumito wouldn't need to worry. His sickly wife would follow him soon, anyway, and that troublesome child of his would be easy to hush up. But he, however rarely he did, prayed that the old man wouldn't be killed just yet. Naoki was still useful, he had been able to create the Child after all. The steel door slid open and Naoki walked in, and all eyes took note of everything. The silence was thick in the room that he could hear his own heartbeats. Fumito felt his own breath hitch when Naoki set foot inside the chamber.

The infant did not stir as Naoki approached.

'Draining artificial amniotic fluid in 3,' one of the lab rats announced through a microphone. The infant did not stir. Naoki was standing close to its artificial home, the very chamber of the chamber. Whatever that meant, Fumito thought. The amniotic fluid had a pale pink color, and he didn't care to think about why it was like that.

She opened her eyes the instant the fluid receded under her nose. Her eyes were wide, with what seemed to be shock from inhaling oxygen for the very first time. The infant's eyes were burgundy, Fumito noted as he gazed at the monitor. There were tufts of light brown hair sprouting from the infant's scalp.

'Unlocking chamber in 3… 2…'

Naoki was frozen, rooted to the floor for a moment as if his brain had stopped functioning. He reached for the Child a second later. The infant seemed to be completely harmless as Naoki walked out of the chamber gingerly. However, the infant's face contorted horridly as they crossed the threshold of the chamber and in a second, Naoki's left hand was lying on the floor, with a pool of blood steadily growing around it. All of the doctors stood frozen, wide eyed at the sight. Naoki screamed. "My h-hand!"

"What are you all waiting for? Get the child and send Naoki-sensei to the hospital ward!" Fumito thundered to wake up the lab rats. The lab rats rushed to the gruesome site and pried the infant from their boss, who was mad with pain. For the very first time in his life, Fumito felt a chill creep down his spine. It was only an infant and yet… "Sedate it!" he ordered loudly at the scrambling scientists.

But there was no more need for tranquilizers. The infant was gaping at him with wide eyes. Now it truly looked like a human infant—tame and adorable. Fumito stared back at her, equally mesmerized. The child stretched her chubby little arms towards him.

The sight shocked everybody in the room.

"Curious," Fumito breathed, still gazing at the infant. "It knows me." He couldn't decide whether he should feel good about it just yet. But it definitely was a bonus, a cherry on the icing. Suddenly, his train of thought was derailed by the infant's shrill cries. _Interesting_, he thought, allowing a smile to finally creep up on his lips. The lab rats scurried to clean out the artificial amniotic fluid and Naoki's blood from the child. One of them brandished a syringe, just in case.

Fumito looked at the infant that was sitting on the padded floor, surrounded by baby toys he'd bought, like 'fathers' do. It seemed so impossible that this adorable little cherub could tear apart a full-grown man's hand in a blink an eye. "I haven't given you a name yet, have I?" he said quietly, not really expecting the infant to understand. He smiled as the child, _his daughter_, looked up at him with beautiful burgundy eyes—Saya's eyes. It was quite difficult, thinking of a name that could fully define this child—she was a victory, a product of his one-sided, fanatical love, the beginning of a new generation, she was the future, she was so many things and she wouldn't need to know. He chuckled. One would think that he would have already picked out a name long ago.

"I wonder if you'll consent to the humans' infant formulas for your nourishment." Fumito said quietly, leaning down towards the child cautiously. "Or do you really require human blood? Would you accept your mother's own blood?" The child looked down at her feet and reached for them, biting her lip. She looked like a normal human child like that. "You, have them prepare the samples of food for the child." Fumito ordered the guard, who was standing by the door.

Fumito entered another room, where a lonely figure lay on the bed. She seemed to be asleep. The room smelled strongly of medicine, disinfectant spray, cleaning formulas and slightly of her food. He wanted to throw the windows open, to let in fresh air, but didn't want to risk her finding a way out. "Saya," he whispered.

Her frail figure did not stir but he found that her eyes were open. "Hello, darling." Fumito moved the chair closer to her side and sat down. The drugs have totally incapacitated her. However, her eyes, albeit being hazy and unfocused, were narrowed. She was definitely very, _very _angry inside. "Do you remember the gift I've been talking about?" he asked. It was still just like talking to a corpse.

Saya's unfocused eyes suddenly gazed up at him, as if she was recognizing him. Fumito took it as a yes. The drugs had worked. "…What…. have… you… done…" she wheezed out. Her weak voice was laced with anger. Speaking still seemed to be a taxing job for her.

"What have I done?" Fumito repeated, barely able to contain his happiness from the fact that she spoke. "I have done many things, and all of them are for you, Saya." He smiled.

Her eyes were starting to clear. Fumito's heart jolted to a stop for a split second. "Saya?"

She raised her head with great effort, as if she was suffering from a stiff neck. She would be, being in that position all the time. "You…." she struggled to say.

"Me?" Fumito asked, playing dumb.

Saya's eyelids fluttered and her head fell back on the pillow with a soft thud. No more words escaped her lips anymore and she continued to be aloof. Fumito looked at her quizzically. What was she trying to say? Fumito gazed at her serene face once more. "I think we should double your dose, just in case, don't you think?" He was talking to a living corpse again.

He stood up and said, "I don't think I'll show you my gifts just yet." Fumito looked at his muse and said, "I am sure that you will _love _my surprises for you." With that final note, he strode out of the room, not hearing Saya's deep breaths and inaudible mutters.

* * *

Author's Note:

Hello there.

I'm sorry for taking too long to update this! Stupid procrastination god has fallen in love with me, haha. I know I'm not following the story line and I kind of feel worried about that—I wonder how you guys will react? Hm. How's your holiday vacation so far? I've been catching up with sleep and having too many dates with procrastination god.

Please, please, please, leave me a review! Or a PM. Or both. Make me feel the love, or the hate. ^^

(random you to me: Y U SO DEMANDING?)

Bye! See ya on chapter 4!

VC


	4. F O U R

Chapter Four

'_What have you done?_'

Saya's weak voice rang loud and clear, repeatedly in his mind, over the din. Fumito signed the last document and closed the folder. His office was dim, with his lamp providing the only light. It seemed to mirror the mood he had that night. Envisages of her face flitted across his mind as he sat there in his vast office. The weak light of his lamp made several surfaces gleam. His office was all steel, wood and leather. All of this were the fruits of his frustrations, his hardships years ago. His colleagues had all gone pretty far, but not as far as he. A throaty chuckle escaped his lips as he stood up.

He had opted to drive alone for the night. A black hummer tailed after him. Fumito took the opportunity to relish the city's bright lights, the din that reverberated from every corner. It would be silent there, where he was going. Suddenly, his phone vibrated.

'Yes?' he said quietly.

'_She _seems ready, Sir.'

'Seems? _Seems_ isn't the word I want to hear from you. I'm not paying you fifty-thousand yen a day to twiddle your thumbs and guess if she's fit for the stage.' Fumito whispered, even in his ears, his voice had a threatening edge. He drew in a deep breath, inhaling the pine scented air of his car. His free hand tightened around the steering wheel. 'Well?'

The person in the other line would have been racking his brains, sweating, loosening his tie (if, he was wearing one, of course), trying to come up a satisfactory answer. 'Sir…. Saya is in an almost catatonic state, she no longer responds—'

'Of course, she never does respond to anything, fool.' Fumito snapped. The traffic light turned green and he lurched forward. The person he was talking to might have jumped from where he was standing, or maybe Fumito's imagination was just hyper tonight. 'I will go there to see for myself if she is ready. Expect me in two hours, or less.'

'Y-yes, Sir.'

'Good.' Fumito threw his phone onto the seat and turned right. The streets were emptier now, and the benches were unoccupied. The grounds had an air of aristocracy. It was, simply the perfect place for him to live in. He had not wanted to keep the house he'd inherited from his family. He'd demolished it the first chance he got and built another extension of his company there. Nobody was alive to contradict him now anymore, anyway. The doors opened immediately before he reached the top stair.

_Welcome home, _the staff had chorused.

Home. Fumito never knew what it truly meant. His mother had faded away from him to show him what it meant. He strode upstairs, not bothering to hear his servant's queries about dinner. 'I won't be eating here tonight.' Fumito answered, to maintain his polite aura with his staff. They didn't necessarily know about what kind of man they were working for, except that he was extremely wealthy, the sole successor of the noble Nanahara bloodline, who just suddenly brought home a dazzling infant girl a week ago. Lo and behold, the heir of the Nanahara empire, of his legacy, of _her_s_. _It was being kept in the dark, nobody in the world really had business knowing… The maids were very surprised, but nonetheless pleased. He'd named her Akane.

Akane's room was at the very end of the second floor hall. He had it decorated modestly—the walls were painted in the slightest shade of pink, her crib was wooden and the sheets were blood red. Toys littered the carpeted floor as he walked in. She was peaceful and dazzling in sleep. Fumito gazed at the girl, whose lips were quivering, as if craving for its mother's breast. 'Oh, if only I could give you your mother, sweetheart, I would,' he whispered, settling down on the chair next to the tiny crib.

Over the week, he'd learned that his _daughter _could be trained to digest human food, however, she still seemed to rely on the special formula the doctors had procured for Saya. The maids did not know why Fumito insisted on feeding the infant strawberry-flavored infant formula, but let him, thinking that it was just another rich man's whim. 'Let him do whatever he wants,' he'd heard one of them say as they mixed the formula one night. 'He's already spoiling her and she doesn't even know how to say "_Papa_" yet!' Oh, how ignorance was bliss. If they had known the formula they were carelessly spilling (in droplets) on the countertop cost thousands…

Akane stirred and waved her tiny, chubby arms in the air. Her tiny pink tongue stuck out of her equally petite mouth. She was beginning to wake up. It felt so odd, just sitting down like this, Fumito thought. 'Hello, sweetie,' he crooned, standing up to lift the infant from her crib. Akane had very fair skin, just like snow—just like Saya. It seemed that the only thing that she'd gotten from his DNA was her hair color and humanity (not that he cared to nurture _his_ humanity.) The infant yawned in his arms. He supposed that infant breaths were sweet –or he presumed that it could have been the formula.

_What have you done?_

The child felt excruciatingly tiny in his arms that he feared he might crush her. He supposed fathers often thought this way too. He didn't really have 'bros' to consult to. Sitting down again, he watched Akane flail her chubby arms around. Fumito still could not believe how tiny her hands were! 'I wonder how your Mother would react when she sees you, Akane-chan.' Fumito said softly. 'That's something I really am looking forward to seeing.' The innocent, dewy eyes of Akane stared back at him, as if she was telling him that she was thinking the same thing. He smiled.

_What have you done?_

'I keep hearing her voice, sweetheart.' he said quietly. 'Do you know what I have done? I do not either. But I made you…. will she get mad? I've already angered her mother so much that I'm scared of her revenge… Mommy might kill Daddy when the day comes…' Something cold and electric crept up his spine. Was it fear? 'Daddy doesn't want to die. I want to always be with Akane-chan…' The infant answered him with a crinkly smile and gurgling, which could pass as laughter.

She cried. It was heart wrenching and terrifying.

'Ah… is my baby girl hungry?' he asked, smiling.

Fumito thought that he was acting like an idiot, expecting an infant to say yes. 'Alright then… Daddy will get your _milk_.' Gently, he placed her back on the crib, then walked out of the room. A maid was already hurrying towards the room. Fumito held out his hand and the maid, bowing her head, handed it to him without a word.

Akane drained the milk bottle quickly as if she had been thirsting for a long, long time. Fumito watched the child drink the foul mixture of infant formula and human blood with growing fascination and receding dread. His phone vibrated in his pocket once more.

'Hello?' he said impatiently, his eyes still on Akane.

'She is definitely ready, come and see, Nanahara-sama.'

It was a voice he recognized. A smile crept its way into his mouth. 'Of course. Shall I arrange for her transfer?' He could his hear his heart hammering, he couldn't wait to see. He could not wait to start it. After a minute, the call ended and Akane's bottle was empty.

'Daddy has to leave, sweetheart. Your mother needs him,' he said quietly as he lay her back in the crib. Akane stared at him, with wide eyes. Her tiny hands clenched and unclenched on the lapel of his coat. Was she telling him something? Possibly. Possibly not. He's going insane. Fathers… they do go insane, right?

Saya sat on the edge of the bed, staring blankly at the black marble floor. Her hair was neat and her skin was slightly flushed. Fumito gazed at her for a moment behind a one-way mirror. His coat was slightly soiled from Akane's clasping. 'You may go inside Nanahara-sama.'

She looked up at him as he entered the room, mouth slightly gaping. Fumito smiled at her. 'Hello, Saya. How are you?' he said, but not really expecting an answer. Saya's eyes widened and narrowed, but she remained silent. 'I see you can behave now,' he said charmingly. 'That's great! Tell me… do you want to get out of here? Nod your head if you want to.'

For a long moment, he waited until she moved her neck gingerly, which gave his heart quite a jolt. 'I see. How does tomorrow evening sound?' There was no more reaction from Saya. Her silence was dour. Saya's eyes were narrowed and focused only on him. It wasn't much of a secret that he had wanted her to look at him for so long, so he enjoyed her undivided attention. He smiled serenely at his lovely treasure then stood up. 'Goodbye, my dear. I shall see you tomorrow night.'

'_I…I can…. I can smell…' _she rasped.

'Smell what?' Fumito asked, turning around.

Her eyes were narrowed still and gleaming scarlet, although dully. She must have been feeling very weak. Fumito scowled. He loved her brilliant ruby eyes. 'What can you smell, Saya?' he repeated patiently.

'_Kin._' Saya looked bewildered.

Fumito stared at her and frowned. 'Kin?'

She said nothing more.

Author's Note:

Thank you for the reviews I've gotten so far! I hope you enjoyed reading chapter four. We are definitely going to need diapers, lots and lots of diapers! Help us fund the Diaper Drive, willya? Haha. Please don't forget to review.

(Review = virtual cash for Akane's diapers, lol)

VC


	5. F I V E

Chapter Five

* * *

"_I can smell kin…"_

Saya's voice was clearer and louder than the chopper's roar.

He could hardly think straight, let alone concentrate on what Kuroto was saying. They were almost in Ukishima. He could already see the faux-town's seaport. It was a beautiful day. The sky was a vibrant blue and the sun dazzled warmly. Akane was sleeping soundly back in Tokyo. Fumito did not have the heart to subject the infant to the deafening sound of the helicopter. How would he bring her here, then? The yacht was definitely a better choice, he decided after a moment.

From their altitude, Fumito already spied a small gaggle of people near the helipad. "Kuroto, who are those people?" he asked, trying hard to identify them but to no avail. None of their faces were familiar at all. But two heads were pink. That sent his brows knitting together.

Kuroto did not bother glancing down before answering. "They will be playing alongside you in your little play. I believe we can call them your main actors."

"Did you check their psychological health? I see two people with _pink _hair down there."

Fumito knew that the Japanese were fond of being queer, but he just wasn't accustomed to it. He had grown up within boring, straight lines. Or so he would like to make himself believe. "Who are those cheeky pink people, Kuroto?"

"I believe that they are the ones seeking amnesty from the government."

"What's their case?"

"Patricide," Kutō said quietly before knowingly raising his eyes to Fumito's. "Doesn't it ring a bell, boss?" A smile flashed in Fumito's features. "But in my case, Kutō , I committed something worse than just killing my father. I committed parricide and left out just _one _cousin." If it was his servant's idea of a joke, Fumito didn't know. But he knew that he wasn't exactly uncomfortable with it. It was fine. It was alright to join the intentional orphans club.

His hair flew in every direction as he stepped out of the helicopter. Six people approached him and bowed. The flamingos were twins, and they both looked eager. The tallest of the group looked quite apathetic and cruel while the shorter one was simply nonchalant. The first to speak was the skimpily dressed blonde woman. The other woman seemed taken aback.

"It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Nanahara-sama." she said while looking him straight in the eye. "I look forward to the success of your project."

Fumito nodded and extended his hand. "I look forward to it too." A smile was plastered on his otherwise blank face. It was always like this, whenever he met with business contacts.

He was going to give a brief speech to all the actors before they finally brought Saya in. He didn't have anything prepared. He was pretty much screwed.

Their faces all looked too identical.

Wariness, eagerness and impatience were painted on their faces as they waited for him to come out. Fumito did not know what kind of people his underlings had hired but he was sure that these people were ignorant of their fates and desperately running from _something_ that he would never care about. Would the world notice if they disappeared?

It wouldn't, just like it always does.

Naoki appeared by his side, wearing a button-down shirt. He looked more ragged, beat down since the last time he had seen him. "Dr. Naoki," Fumito said, inclining his head slightly. The old man looked him in the eye and nodded back. "How is the child, Nanahara-sama?"

"I call her Akane now." Fumito answered politely. "She's adapting very well. She hasn't touched my maids so far. I'm really sorry for your hand, sensei."

Naoki only smiled and excused himself. The old man looked damned vulnerable in his clean shirt and prosthetic hand. "Everyone, I would like you to help me welcome the man behind this project, the chairman of the Seventh Heaven and the President of the Japanese division of Tower, Fumito Nanahara." The applause that broke out was reluctant at first, but crisp.

He walked out to the stage wearing another formal smile. His hunch was indeed right. These people… the world could go on without them. "Hello. Thank you for agreeing to be a part of my company's little experiment." Fumito began. _I should have penned things down after all_. Quiet, nervous chortles floated from the audience. "This experiment will only take a few months. After that, the town is completely yours. I am sure that you are all eager to know what the experiment is about, however, I would have to disappoint you as I cannot divulge anything now. The experiment will begin at midnight. Thank you."

It wasn't much of a speech, but that was all that he wanted to say. Nobody raised their hands to ask questions. Fumito bowed curtly and left the stage.

* * *

They showed him around the town afterwards. The town looked lived in, certainly, but there was a lingering aura of animosity between the actors and the town itself. It still had the air of an abandoned area. Or maybe he just felt like this because he lived in the city, where it was never quiet. Either way, he liked the tranquil atmosphere. Yes, Saya would love it here. She would love the cool, salty breeze and the brilliant blue sky. She definitely would. A tiny flame blossomed within him at the very thoughts of Saya.

Kutō cleared his throat and broke Fumito's tranquil thoughts.

"What is it?" he asked, turning his head to face his underling.

"We shall be heading to your temporary residence now, chairman." Kutō said.

Fumito nodded then turned his back against the picturesque backdrop. "Did you have my request done?" he inquired as they walked towards the idling sedan. Kutō nodded before opening the door for him.

It was a modest country home, with the fake café out front. Fumito looked at the dainty hydrangeas and let a soft chuckle escape his lips. _Cute_. They had built it right across the shrine where Saya would be living in.

"I really cannot believe that you want to take part in this experiment, Nanahara-sama." Kutō said, eyeing the various coffee machines lined behind the counter.

Fumito turned on the tap and looked up at his servant. "I don't see anything wrong with it. She would not be able to do me any harm. She can't kill, even if she wants to." His eye cast down on the running water. "They've got really clear water here, don't you agree?" A skeptical expression brushed the other man's face briefly.

Sunlight streamed into the café in thick, warm slants that sent the surfaces it touched glow. Fumito rested his head on his palm and thought dreamily. _Yeah, I could live like this with Saya and Akane. It's so peaceful. Maybe Akane would even love running around with the other extras' children when she gets a little older… Oh, if everything were normal, it would be perfect._

"Are you sure that you can actually pull this little restaurant-owner act?" Kutō asked, still eyeing everything in the café.

"Of course," Fumito answered. "I have confidence in my cooking skills." Nobody really knew about his secret talents—cooking, for one. No. Nobody knew because nobody cared to care. That was just fine. He didn't really need more flattery shoved down his throat.

They headed to the back, his living space. It was much quainter than he was accustomed to. There wasn't a leather couch to catch his tired person whenever. There were no antique French paintings. But there was a piano. That was fine. Kutō seemed more unimpressed than he was.

Fumito glanced around the living area and moved on to another room. "Ah, this," he said. The room was the kind of room he was more accustomed to. An entire wall had mounted screens. "Ah, yeah… this is my type of room!" Kutō said. "I had them reflectorize the glass on this room's windows, if you don't mind."

The fair-haired man nodded.

"Hey boss," Kutō piped up after a minute. "You only have one room. Aren't you bringing _her _along?"

"Hmm… I think I'll have her stay in the headquarters."

"Oh."

* * *

Akane was nursing when he got home. Fumito watched her drain the bottle quietly by the door with his arms folded across his chest. When the maid looked up, he motioned for her not to speak. _Yeah… this is perfect, if it was Saya was the one holding Akane and she was looking at me lovingly. Tch. I'm dreaming way too ut when _

But when exactly does a dream become impossible?

The maid stood up and placed Akane back in her crib. "Is there anything you require, Sir?" she asked him quietly. He shook his head. With one last bow, the maid filed out of the room. Fumito looked down at Akane, resisting the urge to disrupt her peace.

"We'll be moving tonight, dear. I think you'll like it there. You'll be closer to Mommy." Fumito whispered. Akane stirred, her little pink mouth opened into a small 'o'. He still couldn't believe that Akane actually _breathes_. That she actually existed. Maybe… life was just this mystifying. He wouldn't really know. Everything had been dull until a few years ago, when Saya finally came into his life. His life had been a dull and never-ending search for _her_. She was, in every way, the reason of his existence. That is how he feels. Akane's fingers twitched. "What do you think defines a person?" he asked the slumbering infant.

"What do you think defines a peson?" Fumito asked Saya, who sat docilely on the bed of the yacht's cabin. "I'm not talking about flesh and blood. I want to talk about something deeper than that. Ah, I wish you and I were normal people sometimes Saya." The moonlight illuminated her pale skin wonderfully against the blackness. He didn't expect anything from her at all. "Is it decided? Are they born it? Or do they become 'it'? What do you think Saya?"

All he got was a blank stare.

Fumito looked out of the window into the ominous, infinite ocean that glittered beneath the moon. "Can you smell your kin, Saya?" he asked. "She's in the very same place as you… can you sense her?" Silence met him but he knew that somewhere in the depths of her blank eyes was raging fire with all the answers he wanted.

* * *

Author's Note:

Well. Hello! I'm so sorry for not being alive since January! (you can throw tomatoes at me) It's officially summer here in the Philippines and it took me one week to actually return to Blood C's universe. Oh, college!

I watched The Last Dark. (Thank you, Takkochi!) Aaaand…. I was sorely hurt. Why, Fumito, WHYYYYYY!? My fangirl feels are just... Argh!

Oh well, this is what fanfiction is for. Mwahaha.

Also, I would like to thank all of you for liking this fic and for the encouraging words!

VC


	6. Point of No Return

Chapter Six

* * *

She sat in the dimly lit room by herself, no longer restrained by chains and tubes.

_I can run away._

The thought sounded so sweet, so wonderful but heavy, bitter disappointment thwarted the tiny bud of hope she had immediately. She found herself being muzzled by her own body. She could not even move her fingertips. She couldn't even bring her eyes to cry. _But… I shouldn't cry. If I cry, it's as good as admitting defeat to that man. _

She heard no shuffles of feet outside her cabin. The only thing she could hear was the tranquil, nonchalant beating of the water against the vessel she was in. A cocktail of emotions boiled within her hollow person and the gentle beating from outside did nothing to soothe it.

_Promise me that you will not touch the humans, Saya. _

_Promise me._

Who owned that voice? Who? Saya thought frantically, but gave up immediately, feeling too spent to even think. She had been feeling too tired lately. Maybe she was passing. Dying did not sound so bad. What is there to live for, anyway?

I don't have a reason to live, do I?

Darkness loomed invitingly at Saya. It seemed to spread itself in the dim room as she continued to stare. It was like… paint spilling everywhere, or blood, escaping from her prey's broken skin… She felt miserable. Horribly miserable. _Why must I live like this? Why me? Why couldn't it be another? _ The thought ran through her exhausted gray matter a thousand, or a million times—Saya had quit counting a long time ago.

_Splash, crash, splash… _

Muted footsteps joined the solemn crashing of the waves. Where exactly was that man taking her now? Curiosity and another unfamiliar sensation swelled in her being. She couldn't understand the emotion that settled in her empty belly. 'Can you smell her, Saya?' Of course she could. It was agonizing. The scent… it was just like hers. No Older One had ever had the same scent as her. Saya was beyond confounded. The footsteps grew louder and she knew that it was him, returning to soliloquize.

"Saya," the light haired man uttered upon setting foot in the threshold. "We're almost there."

_There? Where? Where are you taking me? Are you going to end it all there?_

* * *

He lifted his hand and looked at her in the eyes. "Remember our little deal, Saya. The winner receives a prize and the loser gets a punishment. Don't take everything badly Saya. I'm doing these things for your sake, yours and your kin's alone."

Kin. She wanted to see this relation that he'd been mentioning for quite a while now. She wanted to see the so-called kin so bad that it started to weigh itself heavily in her chest. There was an inkling of hope and despair in her heart as she wondered if she truly wasn't alone in this miserable fate. Why does this man insist on separating her from her kind? Her curse was nothing special at all—it was just a curse. As simple as that. It was a curse. This man must have a seriously twisted mind to think that it was anything special.

There was a flash of bright, mellow light and her train of thought derailed. The last thing she saw was the man's smiling face.

When the yacht docked, Ukishima was enveloped in velvety darkness, occasionally broken by streetlights and the star sprinkled night sky. It truly looked like an abandoned city.

Saya walked down beside the soldiers like an empty shell—no, an entirely empty shell—a mannequin. They had changed her clothes, like a child does with her doll. She was wearing the winter uniform of the high school she was attending. They had her handcuffed. He didn't see the need for it.

"See this Saya?" Fumito said quietly as he stood beside her. The wind sent her limp hair flying. "This is all for you. This is our stage." She just stood there, like a doll waiting to have her arm moved by her owner. The air was light and cool but heavy with saltiness. What was she thinking now? Fumito glanced down at her and fought the urge to touch her. "This will be a fun little game." He motioned for the soldier to take her to the shrine.

Akane was being brought down from the yacht when Saya was being shoved in the sedan. Saya gasped audibly as she saw the tiny, blonde bundle. Fumito did not miss the shock that registered in the woman's features.

"You will meet her when the right time finally comes Saya. For now," Fumito said slowly, blocking Saya from seeing Akane any longer, "you will have to play in my game."

Her eyes were dilated and burgundy.

He smiled. "I'll see you tomorrow, Saya."

* * *

Akane was having her first hissy fit while they were heading over to the headquarters. Fumito watched the child flail her chubby arms and legs, not really minding the ear-piercing shrieks. She never did this before. Could it be because of Saya?

"Hush up, Akane," he tried but the baby's lungs would not yield. Kutō glanced at them with a raised brow. Yes, it was a sight that nobody had ever imagined—Fumito trying to calm down a crying child. It was comical. Maybe even a classic. Fumito bet that his servant wanted to guffaw real bad but knew better.

"Did you see your mother too, darling?" he asked the infant when they were finally alone and her shrieks were reduced to nothing more but hiccups. The rims of Akane's eyes were pink. "She saw you… I think she was surprised." He sat down and toyed with her fine hair. The strands of her hair were incredibly silky. "I had wanted you to meet in a different way…"

His private quarters was at the very bottom of the headquarters. It was a pretty genius idea, since none of his would-be (should there be, unfortunately) attackers would always expect the boss to be at the topmost floor. It was pretty pathetic and too predictable.

She was staring at him with wide, glassy eyes. "Daddy might not be here with you when you wake sweetheart," he told her. "I will be with your mother." He kissed her forehead. Akane fell asleep a few minutes after that. She was an easy sleeper. Fumito wondered if her mother was an easy sleeper too.

"Hmm... probably not." he muttered.

* * *

**Author's Note**:

Okay, so I guess we _are _going to have to follow the anime eps. Err.

God help me.

I think this is the point of no return, yeah?

VC


	7. S E V E N

Chapter Seven:

* * *

Saya woke up with a start. Her chest heaved heavily and she swallowed profusely. The light was so blinding that she had to blink several times to adjust her vision. Her skin felt cold and damp. "I dreamed about it again," she muttered as she stood up.

Ukishima had already risen and was alive—she could already hear the farmer's tractor from a distance. Saya walked slowly, admiring her strong sense of hearing. The shrine was peaceful, as it always was. Her father was praying when she arrived. Bowing solemnly, Saya couldn't help but wonder what her dream was about. It's been plaguing her for quite some time now. 'You should not let what you see in your dreams bother you,' her father told her the first time she confessed about it. 'They are mere thoughts. Do not let them control you.' But the murky dream was persistent, as if it was trying to tell her something. It was beginning to trouble her—and her father.

They faced each other after their prayers.

"I dreamt about it again," she said quietly, pursing her lips. "But I really cannot understand what it is."

Tadayoshi looked at her with thoughtfully then said softly, "One day, you will understand… perhaps it has something to do with your mission as the next priestess, or none at all."

Saya nodded, holding on tight to her father's wisdom.

"If you don't hurry, you will not have time to eat next door." Tadayoshi said a moment later, startling her further more. She shot up with a sharp gasp before almost tripping on her feet as she broke into a run. It was always like this—she was always running, always forgetting, always… always… always falling—on her face, most of the time.

Birds were singing sweet songs of their kind as she stumbled out of her room, in her uniform and pig tails. Her friends loved to make fun of her pig tails. Her father always told her that her mother always did this to her hair and that she looked lovely. It was a beautiful day.

Café Guimave is always open.

Rows upon rows of hydrangeas greeted Saya upon her approach. The sweet smell of fresh pastry and coffee wafted out towards her. Her stomach growled in anticipation.

Fumito heard her approaching.

He paused from drying the dish and looked at the door, not wanting to miss the moment. The bell tinkled as she pushed the door to admit herself in. Saya stood before him wearing a high schooler's uniform and pig tails, with the brightest, most innocent smile that could ever grace a face. His heart skipped a beat at the sight. He was still not used to it… seeing Saya beaming and responsive. But it was a hundred times better than talking to an almost-corpse. The sunshine hit her skin as she moved towards him, and made her appear more delicate than she was.

"Good morning, Fumito-san!" she said brightly.

It was almost as if he'd gone to heaven and back, hearing his name leaving her soft, happy lips. Fumito returned the smile and greeting. "What happened to your nose?" he asked, upon spotting the scuff mark on her skin.

"I tripped," she answered as she took a seat at the bar. A soft, girlish laugh emanated from her next.

He laughed along. "You should watch your steps next time, Saya-chan." Fumito took out a cup and filled it with her drink. The blood of the Old Ones smelled awful, it did not appeal to him in any degree. But Saya seemed pleased as he set the cup in front of her. "I don't want you to get hurt," he said softly. "Oh, I made something new. Do you want to try it?"

A blush spread across Saya's cheeks as she looked up at him. _Oh Saya, if things were truly different, I would kiss you,_ he thought. Fumito turned his back at her and headed to the kitchen. It was just there, stacked together and pink. It was something Fumito would never dream about making. He can create a thousand things, but this French pastry was the exception. It had been made the night before, by another person specializing in the particular area, who knew the adequate proportions of the special ingredient to be added to the candy. The idea was simply genius. Fumito picked up the plate and headed back to Saya. She was sitting there, staring at the bottom of the cup. It was adorable.

"Here you are," he said. "This is called Guimave." The sight of her eyes glistening with pleasure contested the sight of her livid ruby orbs. Fumito would have welcomed the idea of stopping time so he could just gaze at elated woman before him.

_-Flashback_

'Are you absolutely positive that you want to do this? The possibilities aren't really in your favor!' It was one Tower's overseas OICs. The proposition was highly ridiculous, of course. Fumito asked them why they shouldn't push through with the project, after all they had done. None of the OICs responded. Nobody wanted to stand up to Fumito. The OICs' faces however, told him otherwise. There was doubt in their usually blank, cold eyes. 'We're pushing through with this.' Fumito dismissed.

-_End of Flashback_

When Saya had run off to school, Fumito closed the café and headed to the headquarters. The operation was going smoothly, all of the actors were doing their parts well. It was only within the walls where the façade fell apart when the families discussed the farce with hushed voices. They thought that he didn't know how they felt scared and nervous every day, but he knew. He knew it all too well. He felt nervous too, believe it or not. Fumito always thought about Saya overcoming the barbiturates. What would happen then? Would a blood bath ensue, or would she still be a slave to the curse?

The intern of one of the scientists was playing with Akane when Fumito arrived. The intern had a rattle in her hands and a wide smile. Akane was babbling happily back. The child's eyes were bright with wonder. Fumito leaned on the doorway and watched them play a little longer. A peal of happy laughter emanated from his daughter's rosy lips. The sound was too precious. Akane was stretching out her arm, trying to reach for the rattle, but the intern withdrew her hand every time. The child laughed harder.

"Oh!" gasped the intern upon seeing him.

Fumito smiled at the young intern and asked how long they had been playing. She told him that Akane had been crying all morning and that everybody else was busy so she came down to check up on the poor thing. The girl hoped that he wouldn't take it against her. With a pleasant smile, he told her that it was definitely alright. Akane babbled for the rattle. "I guess you should play with her a little longer, miss." Fumito said, smiling at Akane. The intern nodded and he left the room.

Saya's face appeared in a hundred screens. She smiling and blushing. She was letting the flamingos banter and bully her. It was really fascinating.

It really looked like they were in another universe. A universe he'd created. He felt like a different being himself. He didn't feel like a man here. He felt like some god, being able to control this whole thing. "When are we going to release the first Older One?" he asked the person beside him. "Tonight," Fumito said. "I know that deep inside, she's feeling extremely ravenous. We've kept her waiting for far too long."

* * *

Author's Note:

Okay, so my summer vacation isn't what it usually was. I'm getting really bored and I am not getting the hang of e-books. Just thought you might want to know. (As if, really.)

I'm such an uneventful writer. :|

VC


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